


Worlds Divided

by paulaao3



Series: Worlds Divided (My own) [1]
Category: None really - Fandom, The Owl House (Cartoon), idk - Fandom
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Horror, Animals, Detective, Fantasy, Historical Fantasy, Horror, Magical, Mysterious, Mystery, Mystical, Riddles, Romance, War, riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paulaao3/pseuds/paulaao3
Summary: In a world where the Earth stopped rotating and orbiting the sun, where the moon stopped orbiting the Earth, half of this planet has been covered in a constant day, and the other in a constant night. This created two kingdoms, Coltrunia: (Kingdom of Night), and Dartriom: (Kingdom of Day).Valencia is a girl from Dartriom but wants to find out all about the other kingdom and even interact with the opposing people, however stories, and her Mother pleads and almost forbids her to cross the waist-high stone wall that separates the two kingdoms.However, a war is on the brink of bursting, and Evangeline, (Leader of Coltrunia) wants to rule over both kingdoms.But if she wants to convince her to not start a war and unite the kingdoms, she'll have to first cross the border... and that is no easy or safe task.
Relationships: Friends - Relationship, Friendship - Relationship, LGTB - Relationship, enemies - Relationship, enemy - Relationship, lovers - Relationship, rivals - Relationship
Series: Worlds Divided (My own) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067072
Kudos: 2





	Worlds Divided

Chapter 1

“May one never step foot in the other kingdom, vowing to never dare speak to the other in any cases of bad omens.” I recite, my right hand behind my back, fingers crossed as my Mother paces the kitchen.  
“And?” She stops walking, twisting her body around to me, feet pointing directly towards my direction as she stands with a straight posture, staring into my eyes as I roll mine.  
“May I, a pure-blooded Dartronian, never side with the Coltrunians.” I reply, an exasperated sigh leaving my mouth as I let my fingers uncross and my hand fall gently back down to my side.  
“You are fully aware of why we recite this every single morning, aren’t you Val?” She replies coolly, scratching her chin as a slight smile begins to curl at the edges of her mouth.  
I cross my arms, leaning on my right leg whilst staring at her with a bored expression, “Unfortunately so.”  
She clasps her hands together, her gaze shifting quickly to the open window on her right, inhaling slowly as she closes her eyes.  
“You smell that, Val?” She smiles, opening her eyes to walk towards the window, leaning over to grab at the handle, pushing the window further open as a hummingbird darts indoors immediately to greet her.  
She extends her hand, pointing a finger towards the bird as an offer for a place to perch, to which the bird gladly accepts and lands on the finger.  
“Yeah, I smell horse shit.” I groan, taking a few steps away from the window, covering my mouth and nose as I watch her giggle at the sapphire blue hummingbird.  
“Embrace it dear,” she gently scratches the birds back with a delicate finger, “this is the pure aroma of Dartriom!”  
“No, it’s the aroma of horse manure, Mom.” I chuckle to myself, “the streets do not smell like this whatsoever.” Then it clicks to me, we didn’t have horses, and anyway Aether was back at the stable.  
She seems to feel my confusion, because when I turn around to look at her, she already had an extended arm, holding a lead out towards me, “There are three horses I need you to deliver to the trading ports on the outskirts of this land, but god forbid I catch you mingling around wi-”  
“God forbid you catch me mingling around with Coltrunians or wandering around over the wall and into their territory…” I exhale longingly, taking the lead in my hand and hauling it over my shoulder, “I know mother. I won’t.” I roll my eyes, turning around as I make my way towards the door.

“Oh, Val?” I hear her say softly, stopping my hand that was reaching the door handle.  
I turn my head around to glance at her, humming in response with a raised eyebrow. She turns around and walks over to the kitchen counter, bending down on her knees to open the drawer, taking out three singular carrots and placing them gently in a bag.  
“Give each of the horse one carrot, they aren’t exactly tame and they won’t be happy being led by some girl on an empty stomach.” She smiles, tying a small, cute knot on the bag as she glides towards me, placing the small bag in my satchel that I had worn previously.  
I give her a small wave as I exit the house, the hot air hitting me immediately as my eyes take a minute to adjust to the sudden brightness of the outdoors. The houses around my area were chaotically dispersed, you could be living next to a field where there’d be one house or you could be easily living in another where there would be two to three houses scattered across the plains.  
However, the trading ports, even though they were randomly placed near the wall that divided the two kingdoms, had a town square that bustled with such lively energy it could easily turn any frown upside down.  
I’ve been to the town square a few times, either to get some groceries for the family or to go and pick-up things she had requested. I’m not entirely certain why she doesn’t leave the house to get them herself but, who am I to complain? I get some time away from a half-horse lady that won’t stop bickering about how, ‘You can’t go over the border! You can’t talk to Coltrunians they’ll burn you those witches will!’ and all that great stuff.  
Not to mention, it’s great to get out of the quiet house and area to a place where everyone is chatting and trading (and illegally betting) and other activities.  
I flinch at the sound of what appears to be hooves digging into the ground, slowly glancing over to my left to find three horses all impatiently clawing at the earth angrily.

“Hey, hey…” I gently coo, walking over to one of the horses, slowly placing a hand on its snout gently and the other under its chin, carefully running my hand up and down the soft coat, “It’s alright…”  
I reach into my satchel, untying the knot quickly to bring out one of the carrots, alive with colour and completely fresh. I grip onto it, glancing back up to meet the creature’s dark pools as I lift my hand up, opening my hand as the horse gently leans down to grab at the carrot, sfotly grazing its teeth on my skin as it picks it up into its mouth, chewing quietly.  
I lean over slightly to the side, then back to stare at the magnificent creature, “Good boy.” I pat his snout softly.  
I tend to the others too, each and every one of them calming down almost immediately as soon as a carrot has been added to the situation.  
I reach back into the satchel, gently dropping the bags inside and zipping it up, reaching over my shoulder and gripping onto the leashes.  
“Steady… steady…” I grit my teeth, carefully placing a leash around each horse’s neck, tightening it just the slightest bit in case they’d try run off and free themselves from the rope.  
I take a step back, taking a quick glance at the horses, leads hanging from their necks and travelling to my hands where I hold them tightly. 

I turn around, beginning to walk slowly towards the town square where I could easily find a path that gives me access towards the outskirts where the trading ports nestle. My mother had always told me to bring horses there because that’s where they are usually sold. I take them towards the stable where a woman would assess the horses for a day, and the next day either me or my mother would have to go back down to the stables to clean them so they would be suitable for trading, where we will be given the money and around 2-5% will be kept by the stable owner.  
The only few reasons I actually allow myself to take care of this type of job is because I also get a sort of shared income too. Not to mention I get to visit the town square, talk to a few friends or even strangers (everyone was extremely friendly in this town) and check out what’s in store for that day.  
I feel one of the horse’s tug on the lead as a kid walks past and taunts the horse, making a weird noise, facial expression and gesture.  
I turn around and burn a glare into the kids’ eye, watching him as he scrambles away and I turn back to face forward, seeing the town square gently fade into view.  
Like I said, the town square is always bustling with activity and is always friendly, outside of the town square? Not so much, depending on the area you live in.  
Now that I think about it, I wonder why mother hates Coltrunia so much, I mean sure stories have been passed on about them for generations but… what if the stories weren’t true and Coltrunians were actually… nice?  
I stop walking, the horses mimic. No. No, Valencia, stop it. I can’t go up and over the wall that separates us, mother told me that you will be killed on sight.  
I carry on walking, diving deeper into thought each step I take.  
I exhale slowly, glancing at the rich grass floor.

I know myself well, there will be a day I cross that border secretly in… maybe some sort of disguise to make myself look like a Coltrunian… that could work.  
She just doesn’t understand, we are merely judging people based on their history, like… that piece of information could easily be hundreds of thousands of years old and Coltrunians could have easily changed and become… friendlier or something.  
It’s also just so fascinating to be able to see how the opposing kingdom lives their lives! Like… do they bask in the sun- no they don’t bask in the sun they are literally nicknamed “Kingdom of Night”.  
I groan, bringing my hand up to smack against my forehead, glancing up and tiredly opening my eyes to see that I am quickly approaching the entrance to the town square.  
There was an entrance arch, made out of soft, creamy-like coloured bricks that had flowers sprouting out from the cracks, adding a sort of warm welcome towards the exhibit.  
House upon houses were dispersed closely near the town square, creating local communities that radiate energy unlike where I live.  
The town square as a whole, should really be called a town circle, because at bird’s eye view you can see houses and stores, festivals, stables, and many buildings crowding around the fountain that nestles in the middle of it.  
I gently walk in, glancing back and sighing in relief to find that the entrance was big enough to let three horses’ side by side pass through it, hearing the all-familiar clacking of the horse’s hooves meeting the intricately decorated stone floor.  
Left and right people can be seen summoning conversations, giving strangers flowers, trading with an agreeing handshake at the very end, children running around with carved wooden eagles, falcons, peregrines, all types of birds, some even smacking wooden swords and yelling random words in protest (some in their mother tongue too!)

The language of Dartriom isn’t really used much, nearly all languages had died or been formed together to create a single one, commonly known as ‘Dartronian’.  
The same applies to Coltrunia too, I have learned. More commonly known as ‘Coltrunian’.  
A few kids run in front of me, causing me to halt along with the horses, as they all walk in front of me with wooden carvings in their hands, staring up at me with curious eyes.  
“Hello,” I lean down, placing my hand between my thighs just in case they would find it hilarious to nick the leashes I held, “May I help you?” I smile, and they all look at each other with toothy grins, then back up at me.  
One of the girls in the group steps forward a little, holding a tiny red flower in her hands, staring at it shyly.  
I hum slowly, as she glances up at me with sparkling eyes, gently gesturing for me to kneel down, and I do.  
She walks hesitantly closer to me, as her hand reaches up to gently place the flower and nestle it in my hair just above my ear.  
I feel my heart melt a little on the inside, as she steps away and I stand to my highest height.  
“I found it and it reminded me of you!” She giggles quietly, tapping her tiny fingers together, digging her foot into the ground and twisting it around.  
I exhale, biting my lip from sheer joy, then I glance at the others, all holding wooden carvings of a different animal.

“Hey, do you have a carving of your own?” I rest my arm on my knee, speaking softly.  
She hangs her head, her arms hanging by her sides sadly, “No… my mother can’t afford one…”  
I gently reach into my satchel, feeling around for a bag, gripping onto it and dropping it in her hands, closing them together and bringing them to her chest gently, “Well go buy one, sweetie.”  
Her face lights up in almost an instant, before dropping immediately, staring at the bag of coins, “But, what about you?” She looks up at me. I stand up, gently tugging the lead on the horses.  
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I look down at her, a soft smile plastered across my face, ushering the group to the side, walking past with the horses following closely behind me, “Go get yourself that carving.” I wink at her, watching as she squeals, jumping up and down and clapping her hands together, running over to the carving shop nearby.  
I giggle quietly to myself, feeling extremely good about the situation as a whole.  
As we continue walking, I turn to the left, walking past a few people with familiar faces that wave and smile at me, some even greeting me with, “Good morning Valencia!”, or, “It’s so nice to see you again!”.  
I have actually pestered my mother about maybe moving into this little community one day, and she always replied with, “We’ll have to wait and see Val, but you do know we are short on currency as it is Valencia.” Which, to be frank, she isn’t entirely incorrect with… however we do have a lot of horses near our area to sell and not to mention we also live nearby a cave which contains some briome if you looked deep enough… but, then again, we don’t really have the tools to excavate it so that will have to wait until I can request one. 

I look around, taking in the beautiful scenery that was bestowed upon me, rows and rows of cream-coloured houses are seen decorated with countless varieties of flowers and plants. What seems to be popular for decoration this time are white lily flowers, perfectly matching with the tone of the intricately patterned exhibits. Old tavern style signs hang high above the building’s doors, each painted with large, white, and beautifully written welcoming phrases, the sun that beats down on Dartriom every day reflecting the signs slightly, adding a bit more of an animated feel to the decorations.  
Restaurants had chairs and perfect round tables placed outside, clean white sheets covering the table to add a bit more of a delicacy to the theme. The windows treasured white line-art of many types of flowers or little animals, swerving and curling at the tips as if to tell a story, and you could always see at least one little kid pressing their face against the window, pointing at these paintings with the most jovial expression slapped right on their faces.  
As we pass another arch, with the all famous, not-so-tall stoned wall snaking into view, a man welcomes us with pride, gently slapping the horses back as we pass, receiving a bright smile from me as we etch closer towards a man, shouting and bellowing at the top of his lungs, a hand pressed to his chest and another held up high.

“Welcome one! Welcome all. Trade your goods,” he brings his hand down, rubbing his two fingers together, “for a little bit of gold! But beware the eye of those that lurk,” he points a shy finger towards the wall, “for they are the ones to get you cursed.”  
Passers by flinch a little bit at the finishing sentence, to which I just simply roll my eyes to. “Well Buttons, same as always I suppose!” I stop, facing him as he lets out a whole-hearted laugh.  
“My dear Val, you must inform the people of the dangers!” He smiles, his golden tooth glinting in the sun, “Don’t tell me you still don’t believe the tales you are told and the warnings you’ve been warned?” He lifts a brow, stepping off the stool to reveal his true height, (being quite small for his age,) and bending down to rummage through a box that had slept silently beside his small podium.  
“Those stories are old,” I begin, being interrupted by yet another one of his laughs, this time slightly more impatient.  
“Valencia,” he stands up straight again, cracking his back with a grunt, turning towards me and placing a chubby hand on my shoulder, “Valencia, Valencia…” He begins, trailing his stare towards the floor, breathing in quietly as his eyes dart back to mine, “The stories are told because they are true, no matter how old they may be.” He retracts his hand, “Pictures may wrinkle and crinkle with age, with a golden brown, but what is in the picture stays yet the same.”  
I stare ahead of him, past the wall to stare at the dark, luminescent trees that tower over passing Coltrunians. They seemed so peaceful, none of them threw protests over walls as I’d been told, none of them were at each other’s throats given any circumstance, and most importantly none of them even so thought to throw burning objects or spells over the border to burn down the trading ports as so done in 2434.

“I know that look Valencia.” He sighs quietly, “That’s the look of a girl that’s asking for trouble from the opposing side.”  
“I am not asking for trouble.” I retort, gripping onto the leashes tightly, watching as his eyes gaze at my hand.  
“You brought horses,” he looks back up at me, “I assume you are visiting the stable once again?  
“Mother wants me to drop them off for selling purposes, and then I have to pop to the blacksmiths to collect some item she ordered.”  
“Ah, the blacksmiths!” He smiles to himself, glancing to his left, “Yes, Ferron’s a lovely girl, she is. Though, I must warn you she may look a little scary at first, but once you warm up to her?” He laughs loudly, slapping my shoulder playfully whilst wiping a single tear away from his eye, “Oh she’s lovely, she just really is. Any who, I won’t bother you for any longer, you go on and head to the stable.”  
I wave, smiling at him whilst returning to the same path, same walking pace and still the same “mission.” 

No one around here looks too scary, but then again Button’s is known to be quite the “over-exaggerate” around here so maybe…  
I contort my face, staring at the floor, “Ferr-own…”  
“Fe-ferran?”  
“Ferroun…”  
“Ferrow…”  
“Burrow?”

I glance back up, stopping immediately before I could crash into a fence pole that was quite literally about to hit me. Shaking off the thought of pronouncing such an easy-seeming name, I walk over to the right a bit, meeting up with a dangerously tall, and… overly friendly lady.  
“Vaaa-lencia!” She squeals, bringing her clenched hands up to her mouth, jumping a little on the spot before throwing her arms open and wrapping them around me, bringing me towards her body as she squeezes real tightly.  
“H-Hi Serone!” I choke out, being dropped on the floor as she brushes her hands on her coat.  
“Ah yes sorry, sorry, you have told me before to-” She brings her hands up in a jazzy fashion, “-be more gentle on the squeezes!” She laughs nervously, collecting herself by placing a hand on her forehead.  
“Right, horses, yes?” She glances past me to the horses, counting with a finger quietly, “three, right yes three, this way!” She waves me over, turning on her heel as she presses a button on the barn door, watching as the entrance is being slowly pulled up and out of view, revealing a large room, each with fenced off rooms for horses, pigs, cows, sheep, I… think that’s a mixture of a cow and sheep, and countless other strange animals this world has to offer.  
I follow her cautiously behind, mindful of her kicking feet as she skips to the middle of the room, opening a gate and extending an arm as if to welcome me to some fancy party.  
Walking inside and removing the leashes from all three of these horses, I’m pulled back quickly as the gate closes, feeling two, strong hands grip my shoulders as I’m shaken slightly.  
“So who’s coming tomorrow? You or Maria?”  
“I’m… not sure, guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” I reply, turning around to walk out of the barn before being stopped by a pleading Serone, “Wait!”  
Turning around, I watch as Serone rummages through her tiny backpack, a tongue sticking out from the corner of her mouth as she looks up at the ceiling in thought. It was funny to watch Serone find the items she needed, the same old facial expression and still as goofy as ever.  
“Ah!” She inhales, pulling out a tiny bag and dropping it into my open hands. I untie the knot, glancing inside to find an array of green, white, blue and red herbs.  
“If you take these Stelolites to your mother, she can apply it to the dagger she requested Ferron to make!”

Ferr-on. Right okay.

“She wants a dagger?”  
“Not just any dagger dear, this is almost an exact replica of the ones the ancestors used to fight the great Luke war!”  
“Right… Luke war…” I nod, tying the bag and placing it into my satchel, buttoning it up again.  
“This Ferron girl…”  
“Nothing to worry about! She’s lovely!” She smiles, turning on her heel once again and striding towards the end of the room.

Exiting the barn, I glance past the station Buttons works in, where a large, dark cobble-stoned building rests between a few hills, smoke rising from its surface but completely disappearing half-way through.  
I begin making my way towards the structure, it’s quite different from the other vibrant or innocent-coloured buildings that rested around this particular one, so I’m going to take an obvious hunch and say that’s the blacksmiths.  
I glance back towards the wall, staring into Coltrunia and its mysterious atmosphere. The trees, mostly had black bark, but the leaves revived them with luminescent colours, ranging from a blue, to a green, to a pink, to an even purple, all glowing in the dark with tiny fireflies flying around them in a zig-zagged fashion.

Many Coltrunians themselves looked quite depressed in colour if I’m honest, most of them had long black hair, some even, though quite uncommon, had black paintings on their faces. They were tall, some were average, some were even small but that’s just being they are young. You can rarely find an old and short Coltrunian by what I’ve heard and predict.  
I stop walking, two ladies, around the same age catch my eye, walking towards one of the trading ports, one of them looking rather agitated and the other looking joyous and excited to be around such a bustling atmosphere.

One of the girls, standing taller than the other, had a stern expression painted on her face, holding what seems to be a glowing crystal as she brings it up to examine it. She had dark brown hair tied up in a messy and unkempt ponytail, strands sticking out from the front and attacking her face, to which she did not care. A long, jagged, fresh scar was cut onto her right eye (from the woman’s perspective), where two orange lines rested below each eye, glowing slightly. However, the lines under her right eye which held that taunting scar, no longer glowed, and instead was just a mere dark orange colour, lifeless at hand.  
She wore a long, brown jacket, where her sleeves had two orange sections for pattern, and her sleeves were rolled up. She wore black arm gloves, and her black jeans were tight and her belt fell slightly to hug (her right) thigh. Her shoes were shin high, laced with small feathers that poked out only slightly.  
The collar of her jacket also popped out, hiding parts of her neck as a wooden necklace hugged an orange glowing crystal, weak and small wooden branches held the gem closely.  
What seemed very odd about her is the triangle burnt onto and just above her jaw, a shade darker than her actually skin, being pale.  
She looked tired, very tired and was seen putting the gem she held in her hands back into her pocket, the girl next to her grabbing onto her shoulder playfully as an owl that rested on her shoulder now rested onto the taller one’s head, her eyes half closed and holding an evil intent in them.

The other girl was a bit paler, raven black hair pulled into a half tail, gliding down her back beautifully. Her eyes were far different from the other girls’ amber ones, because these eyes were large and black, slightly faded. Though, I can’t really pinpoint as to why they were so… black… and… scary, almost.  
She also was seen wearing black face paint, a line trailing down her nose and another two small lines just on the chin. Her jacket was a classic woollen puff jacket, the fur at the edges of the hood giving style for her. Under it she wore a nice, white sweatshirt, complimenting the light blue and ripped denim perfectly. To top off her outfit, she had on the classic black and white Converse, creating the perfect anarchy vibe.

The girl moved her head slightly to the left, to which the owl immediately follows in sync, and it immediately clicks to me.  
She was blind, and the owl was her pair of eyes.  
They both burst into laughter when the bird is seen shaking its head furiously with its eyes closed to avoid the girl getting dizzy or confused with her own vision, watching as the owl stumbles on the amber-eyed girls head, both the girls snickering at its antics.  
I smile to myself; people were not like mother described and I now know that. Maybe if I get to know them one day…  
My session of staring is cut short, when the raven-haired stops laughing, both her and the owl turning quickly to my direction, her empty eyes staring into mine with a straight expression.

I cringe, watching as she nudges the other to also look, to which she turns to face me, both of them staring at me, the owl tilting its head to which the other follows.  
I shake my head, pulling a hand up to cover the side of my face as I speed walk towards the blacksmiths.  
That was weird. That was extremely weird.

I decide to shake it off, desperate to forget the big, black stare I just received from them, shivering a little bit as I swallow.  
Glancing back up, relieved to find that I was now really close to the blacksmiths, I walk towards the door, stopping at the mat that was placed below.  
“Welcome… huh, classic.” I shrug, looking back up to the spruce door, being met by the eyes of the door-knocker, a large beast with black and sharp antlers, one of which was broken, almost as if it was torn apart and broken.  
Its jaw was open, displaying a row of sharp and jagged teeth, the canines rising and curling slightly towards the inside of the mouth.  
I lift my hand and nervously knock on the door, to which there is no reply. I glance at the widow to my right, leaning slightly towards it to take a look inside, however the window is far too foggy and slightly dirty to fully see what’s inside.

Exhaling hesitantly, I place my hand and grip onto the handle, turning it slowly and cringing at the creaking the door produces when it slowly opens. The clanging of tools meeting metal rings through the whole room as I fully open the door.  
No one seemed to be present, and the fire at the devilish fireplace burned angrily.  
It was all decorated strangely, an evil and dangerous atmosphere shifting and groaning through the air.  
Rows and rows of weapons and tools were resting against the wall in the far corner, where just above hung even more tools, all shaped differently, patterned differently, coloured different and overall, just a variety as a whole.  
A table sits alone to the right, candles sitting on tiny plates, wax dripping miserably onto the table and off onto the floor, forming rough and idle structures. Just behind the candles was a bird cage, were a bird sat inside, still and unmoving, a singular wing twitching to which the bird’s eyes mimic after each twitch.

A stump is displayed in the middle of a room, where an anvil rests on top, its edges curling and sharp, almost as if it were a weapon on its own.  
A work bench sat next to it, a mat spread across it with a hammer and a large tweezer placed atop.  
A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, burning with a small fire yet, probably being the only feature in this room that doesn’t look like it can be used as a weapon at any time soon.  
Looking back to the fireplace as I take a shy step forward, on either side, two dogs of some breed can be seen with chains extending from their mouths, one of them holding some sort of… air pump? And the other attached to a lever, seemingly made out of pure bone, carved at the ends to make it seem as if it were a skull.  
The front of the furnace bestowed yet another skull, staring at the end of the room lifelessly as a hood covers a part of the furnace, though the fire reflects onto the skull, blanketing it with a golden glow.

The whole room had black and dusted brick walls, framed of old, black wood towering high and forming a pattern all around. The floor was covered in square tiles, a shade lighter than the walls but still dark itself.  
The stairs on the left creak, as a shadow begins to form, walking down the stairs. I swallow, shaking slightly after taking in the whole scenery, watching the stairs carefully and waiting in tension to see what was moving.  
A short girl, wearing nothing but some brown jeans and white tank top snakes into view, holding a box with greenery sprouting from the top. Her hands and arms had flower roots and veins hugging it, snaking up to her mid-arm and stopping there, white flowers were dispersed blossoming all over her as she reaches the end of the stairs, stopping to stare at me. Her hair was short, and, by the looks of it really fluffy, ruffled and a warm brown colour.  
Soft coloured antlers grew from her head, flowers and little leaves hanging from it just like her arms, and though she looked quite short, she still had muscles to clearly display her strength.  
We stood there staring at each other for a good few, her eyes scanning me up and down as she grips onto the box tightly, and shortly after more footsteps were heard.

Two black boots shifted into view, then murky coloured trousers, and, by the looks of it, a large brown apron.  
The girl holding the box looked at me with a wide grin, walking over to the table with the bird cage, setting the box on the floor and rummaging through it.  
She picks out a flower, opening the cage and gently picking up the bird into her free hand, closing the hand with the plant tightly.  
I hear someone clearing their throat behind me, turning around I’m met face to face with a very tall and strongly built woman. Her arms were crossed with a hammer in hand, her black gloves were bruised, and her arm faded up from a black, to a grey, to her natural skin tone, tiger-like white stripes covering her arms and up to her shoulder.  
Her expression was indeed cool, scars painted on her face whilst her green eyes burnt a hole in several places of my body, assessing me just like the other girl did.  
Under her apron she wore a white shirt, and a belt was securing her waist, a golden buckle shining and a tool hanging from her belt.  
Just like the door-knocker, she had black and sharp antlers, however, one of them was broken, almost as though it was ripped.  
Her hair was messy and tied into a dark orange pony tail.

“She’s not much of a talker when you first meet her.” I hear a soft voice come from behind me, turning around to face the girl, “I’m Zuzane, and that’s Ferron.” She points at Ferron, giggling slightly once a groan escapes Ferron’s mouth.  
“You’re here to collect something or request?” Zuzane smiles at me, turning around to face the cage, slowly opening the hand she crushed the flower between to reveal a neon, green liquid seeping through her fingers. She brings her hand up and over the bird, shifting the little creature on its side to pour the substance onto its wing, mist bouncing off as the liquid meets the wing.  
“What are you doing?” I ask once finding the words or the courage to speak.  
“This little bubba has an injured wing, poor thing,” She replies, her face shifting to a sadder expression, and footsteps sound behind me as Ferron stands beside Zuzane, leaning against the wall and staring at her, watching her every move, occasionally shifting to stare at me.  
“These herbs I’m using can be melted with my hand, and used as a healing remedy to mend the bones.” She continues, placing the bird on the table as it flicks its black wings around, testing its movement, “In about two to three minutes he will be up and ready to be set free!” Zuzane chirps happily, poking the bird on the beak before turning around to face me, brushing her hands together, “I never got your name.”  
“Valencia…” I reply slowly, staring at the bird with curiosity.  
“Fascinating isn’t it?” She smirks, following my gaze to the bird.

“Wait, Valencia, the daughter of Maria, right?” Ferron says in a gruff and low voice, clearing her throat as she walks over to the work bench.  
I hum in response, nodding as Zuzane bounces happily on her spot once the bird shows signs of being able to fly again, picking it up and walking over to the window.  
“My mother wanted me to collect some sort of dagger, I think?” I add on, watching as Ferron removes the tools from atop of each other and picks up a small knife, with a bulky handle and a sharp, ragged blade.  
“Yeah, I thought so.” She says coolly, walking over to me with the blade in her hand.

The blade was intricately detailed, with the blade being almost pitch black with signs of age, which weren’t real age, just great handiwork. The handle itself was an array of a green, teal, aqua and a red, and was most definitely shaped into having the head of a dragon. The mouth was open, teeth were baring and from the inside of its mouth is where the blade came from, acting as if it were a tongue of some sort.  
“Oh my…” I stare at the blade as it gets handed over to me, still slightly hot from just being made, “This is beautiful, I mean, just take a look at this!” I lift it up into the air, gripping onto the handle as the sun coming from a window reflects onto the blade.  
“A blacksmith always appreciates compliments.” Ferron smiles subtly, before returning to her usual, bitchy resting face.  
“She already paid, you can take it back to her now.” Ferron turns around, picking up a few tools and walking over to the end of the room to hang it onto a wall.

“Ferron! Look!” Zuzane calls out, watching as the bird lifts off from her hands and flies out of the window, flying high in the air I presume from the way Zuzane is leaning out of the window with a wide and beaming smile.  
Ferron walks over and pulls her back from the window as if she were to fall, to which Zuzane just laughs and turns back to me.  
“It was really nice to meet you Valencia! Maybe we could hang out sometime?” She extends a green hand towards me.  
I feel Ferron’s stare burn into the back of my head as I gulp nervously, taking her hand hesitantly and shaking it, “Would uh…”  
“Oh don’t worry about her, she’s just a little protective, aren’t you, you idiot” She chuckles as Ferron smiles and rolls her eyes, crossing her arms once again.

“I’ll catch you sometime yeah? Oh! I can show you all the magical properties plants have and such and even show you how to use them!” She squeals, clapping her hands together and jumping up and down on the spot, giggling furiously as I smile at the reaction. Ferron even allows a little laugh escape her lips too.  
“That’s sounds great.” I reply with a smile, turning to walk out of the blacksmiths with the dagger in my hand.  
This looks awfully familiar. I think to myself, lifting it in front of me again as I stand in the doorway. Awfully familiar…


End file.
